There is no city but therethrough doth that proud story ring
Of King Erechtheus’ burghers told,
Who made thy shrine in hallowed Pytho, Phoebus Harper-King,
A marvel to behold.
In Isthmian contests five were ye victorious
Inspiring the bard’s strain;
At Zeus’ Olympian Feast one prize most glorious,
At Kirrha twain,